


twin sized mattress

by Father_Of_Death



Series: For the music men (Joe Iconis and Joe Tracz) [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: HOOOOOO BOY, M/M, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This is pure angst, based off of the song by the front bottoms called twin size mattress, hi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 11:31:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Father_Of_Death/pseuds/Father_Of_Death
Summary: Jeremy ran away, and this is what happened.





	twin sized mattress

"I'm running away." The words leave the brunette's mouth as he cries, the sentence being shaky and broken. "Please stay." The other says, tears leaving his eyes, eyes trying to rip through the other's soul. "Hey man, I love you, but no fucking way." The brunette says, inching himself out of the twin-sized mattress, moving towards the window again. "I just wanted to tell you I'm going." The one sitting starts to sob, no way to stop. There is silence while the two sniffle and cry. "P-Please. When you find something, anything safe, call this house. Please." He reaches for a hug from the other, realizing the other must want away from him. The logical excuse for the boy leaving, was his mother. His terrible mother, and dad who is so incredibly in love with her that he doesn't try to help his son. Even when he was thrown down steps, rendering his arm broken and spine never the same, his father ignored it. That's why the boy is running, escaping himself now. 

Michael lets him go, crawl out of his window with duffel bag and his heart with it. His best friend is leaving, he has no one else. The emotions don't hit him until a month later when the missing signs are still up and Jeremy hasn't called yet. The police have talked to Michael multiple times, not telling the secret he never wants to reveal, Michael was the first to know and the last person to see Jeremy. Everything came tumbling down after Jeremy disappeared, not missing but running away. Running away to somewhere better than the same old town. He must've caught a train and is in New York now, working at a café or a show, forgetting everything about Michael. It stings, like a snake bite full of venom, it kills slowly. His heart is slowly becoming poisoned, like potassium cyanide over months flooding his system. Jeremy is gone, and happy, while Michael sits in his room every night and cries out to him. The twin sized bed they used to share feeling emptier even though Michael fits the bed by himself. It's cold and the next year he gets to move into the basement, leaving everything upstairs in his attempt to escape Jeremy. He gets into smoking weed, using it to escape his body and mind. 

The first panic attack he had was during a time he was high, he had imagined Jeremy slipping into one of the flood windows and saying hi. His imagination had felt so real, Jeremy looked older, but softer. Even though his imagined jawline was sharp, his eyes were the same blue, piercingly soft blue. The blue that Michael can't escape, Jeremy's fake voice was deeper, but nice, Michael had started to cry, breathing shakey as the last words Jeremy ever said to his roll through his head and he can't help but cry, the boy he imagines trying to sooth him but failing at Michael goes to hug him and is met with air. Everything is terrifying, when Michael's breathing won't return to normal, he tries to scream, but is met with his voice slurring at he feels his legs go numb and he falls onto the ground, not feeling okay, as his body is shutting down on him. He cries out for his mom, wanting her to come save him but when he closes his eyes because he feels so tired, so fucking tired, that when his mother is holding his body close to her he can't feel a thing. His limbs are numb and he can finally hear her begging over the ringing. His eyes slowly open and he sees her tear-stained face and feels guilt build up in his stomach. He stops after that, the even thought of using weed terrifying him to no end, he can't imagine Jeremy again. 

This is the first time he came home during college his senior year, and he can't breathe. His parents divorced a year or two before and his mother and grandma still live in the house, they had finally paid off mortgage after Michael was a freshman in college and he doesn't want to return to the place he had seen Jeremy last, because he avoided thinking of Jeremy the whole time at college, making new friends and unlikely acquittances. The house looks the same, passing his old best friend's house, the sign telling it will be demolished soon. His pride is in his throat, Jeremy's room will be nothing but dust in the coming months and Michael can't help but feel the guilt of not letting everyone know Jeremy had run away, even though it was a conclusion made by the police. After the first year they assumed he ran away because they found out about the abuse, pestering Michael and asking him about anything that would help them find Jeremy. But Michael had not been of help, because now it's the ninth year of the disappearance and everyone gave up. 

Michael had walked from the train station to the neighborhood, and felt it harder to breathe the closer he got to his house, his mother's green station wagon sitting in the driveway and his grandmother's peachy-pink car sitting behind it. Michael adjusts his backpack straps, fidgeting with his hands as he remembers that he left all of his things in his car at the train station, the people know him and will watch it for him until he gets back from seeing his mom and grandma. He needed to tell his mom and grandma he is coming home, he graduated in December and hadn't told them. The school only gave him his bachelors and let him move everything from his school oriented apartment, saying a goodbye to his roommate, Chloe Valentine, and heading home. He breathes heavily as he knocks on the door to his childhood home, seeing the little fake plants he and Jeremy had planted in front of the house, clean and in perfect condition even if it was for the eleventh year they were out on the front porch. He doesn't hear any footsteps coming from inside the house and decides to pick up the purple tipped succulent that Jeremy had picked out for the front of Michael's house, and he plays with its plastic leaves in-between his fingers and decides to ring the doorbell on the house and sneaks the faux succulent into his bag. The doorbell was always annoying, loud and an annoying church bell like sound that booms through the house. He hears footsteps walk towards the door and Michael feels like his mom is going to yell but when she opens the door, swinging in forcefully, she smiles. She hugs him and it's the best hug Michael has had in the last year. 

She pulls away and starts a small conversation as she lets him in, his grandma joining the conversation after she walks in with the newspaper and a pen. He missed them, when he explained why he's home they excitedly welcomed him and told him he is welcome to move back in until he gets a stable job. He wants to work in music, and living near New York helps him exponentially. When he is finally moving his boxes back down to the basement he smiles, home sweet home. He texts Christine, his closest friend, and tells her everything is good and to tell Chloe that Brooke can finally move into his room. His mom tells him dinner is take out, a nice Indian restaurant nearby. It's a nice night, Michael goes to bed with a smile on his face. He'll be okay. 

The number of boxes that Michael has is a large amount and some stuff will have to go into his room upstairs, so he goes through everything, taking out books that he had bought because they reminded him of Jeremy, wanting to help himself during shitty nights. A giant hoodie he had stolen from Jeremy before the disappearance, it still hung on him, the blue color faded over time and it looks vintagey. Old nick knacks that Michael would rather forget about litter the bottom of the box, covered in books and clothes that Michael doesn’t want to look at for a long time. His mom has work, leaving him and his grandma home alone together, she does her gardening and Michael is taking the boxes up to his old room. He shuffles open the door, trying not the drop the first box that is in his arm. He lifts the door and opens it, the door not fitting the frame and hinges becoming loose. The door swings and let's Michael get a view of the room, everything not touched except for the boxes sitting in the middle of the room, chicken scratch that is recognizable as Jeremy's dad's. If this is what Michael thinks, he is going to have a panic attack at the sight of them. The box slips out of his arms and makes a loud slam onto the floor and he backs out into the hallway and hits the wall. He is terrified of why those would be in his room. Why would Mr.Heere give it to Michael? Did he want to hurt Michael like this? By giving him the boxes full of Jeremy. Full of  **everything**  that Michael didn't want to remember. Being in his old room is painful enough, he can still smell Jeremy, on his pillow and in his sheets. The posters Jeremy had given him litter the walls and pictures from school trips are on the corkboard beside his desk. His Magic card collection sits in it's binder on the floor with the socks and dust. The various video games surrounding the room are old and should've been collecting dust for longer than they have. The boxes are also covered in a fine layer of dust, Michael can't help but feel guilt and fear beat up his insides with a bat. He walks back into the room, looking at the boxes again, deciding something stupid. He places the two boxes from the basement on the bed and he picks up the first box on top of the pile. 

Turning around, Michael walks with this box to his basement, placing it on the floor, grabbing the rest and placing them in an arranged pile in the corner of the room and making Michael want to go through all of them, but also wanting to puke at the sight of them. He doesn't want to ask about them but his mother brings up him moving his unwanted boxes into his old room, and Michael looks away from her and looks guilty. His mother understands what that meant and felt a rising worry in her heart as she remembers what's up there. She regrets not telling him the time when they had gotten them, the Heere's (or what was left of them) moved out two years ago and let the house get demolished to get cleared and rebuilt, telling her that the boxes from Jeremy's room are his to own now and that he deserved to have all of it. She changes the topic to something more light-hearted from Jeremy, knowing that it's always a hard topic for Michael to talk about. She asks him about any new job offerings, knowing he wouldn't come home completely unprepared. He talks about a small café needing a DJ and an indie video game company wanting some commissioned pieces for their game. He's going to be fine, she believes. 

She tiptoes down the stairs, not wanting to scare or wake up Michael with her steps. The worry for her son sits in her stomach, hoping the boxes have not thrown him down into a spiral, hoping never to have that  _one day_ ever again. She reaches the last stair and looks out across the basement, seeing her son sitting on the beanbags and staring at the familiar boxes in the corner, moving his hands quickly, his fidgeting hasn't been as bad as it was after Jeremy had disappeared. He wouldn't stay in his chair for more than a minute, bouncing off the walls and never speaking out. His headphones are playing loud music, and she can hear it from the stairs. She walks up to the couch and sits down, being wary of what her son is feeling, lightly putting her hand on his and he is pulled out of looking at the boxes and shifts his gaze towards her. She can see the fear in his eyes and she pulls his hand into hers and kisses it lightly, knowing what he feared. He moved his other hand and slipped off the headphones and taps his foot lightly, the fear dissipating for a small amount of time. She didn't need to tell him she was sorry for not telling him about the boxes, he could feel the apologizing aura around her and didn't need to tell her that it was okay, people make mistakes and he forgives her, he always forgives her. She does her best, it's not her fault Vincent Heere dropped the boxes off and told her to take them. Telling her that Michael deserves to have them, Jeremy was his best friend. They decide to open the first box together, regretting it immediately as the box was full of pictures. Not good ones, mostly blurry ones, but happy ones. 

Michael starts to cry halfway through the box because it got to be too much, she sorts everything back to the way it was and helps Michael into bed, kissing his forehead and wishing him a good night with good dreams. 

Michael wakes up screaming, holding himself tightly to try and calm down. He hears footsteps coming towards the basement door, he hopes it's his mother, going to tell him that they found him and that breakfast is going to be all their meals for the rest of the year. He sits up in his bed, leaning against the metal headboard frame and tries to rub the tiredness out of his eyes as the door opens and he can hear footsteps down the stairs, he sees a familiar and unfamiliar figure standing in the room. The eyes raking over everything and turns towards the bed, the blue eyes cause Michael to panic. The person steps forward and looks at Michael with a smile. The smile doesn't looks familiar, it looks like it's on a mask. A mask that Michael would never befriend, a scary mask. "Michael I missed you." The voice is distorted like it was in a music box that was drowned in demon fuel. The faux Jeremy moves quickly and has it's hand at Michael's throat in the next second and Michael feels the hand on his throat and all he can do is try to scream and battle it off of him. He can't help but try to hit it with one of the pillows, trying to confuse it before trying to get away. But it catches him, tackling him to the floor and holding him there. He can't breathe, everything turning hazy and his screams are turning into desperate pleas to let him go.  _Let him live._  Michael opens his eyes, screaming and pleading fly out of his mouth and he feels everything around him. He is on the floor, with a blanket wrapped around him in an almost killing way, snaking closely to his throat and hard to get out of. 

When Michael checks his phone he has a million texts from Christine, telling him to check the news. He walks up the stairs, hearing the news report ringing out from the radio his mom plays in the morning, the usual upbeat Latin music being replaced by a very forceful voice. Talking about a missing person found this morning, Michael tries to not get his hopes up and turns off the radio, his grandmother out shopping and his mom at work (a note on the fridge said so). He opens the fridge to a small half eaten pan of egg quiche and he heats up some of it. He turns on the news on the TV, unsure of what Christine had wanted him to see but when he turns it on the report is about a stupid meme but he keeps it on, hoping the meme or new musical performing on the other part of the segment isn't what she wanted him to see. After the performance the news reporters continued a report that had been cut off apparently, the missing person story was back and Michael knew exactly why Christine had wanted him to see it. The picture that is old and had been digitalized before the first missing reported. And Michael feels himself while going through the old boxes, wanting to forget the actual news but it getting confirmed when he looked on his phone and had searched the local site for news. The house had been called, asking for Michael, and he answered and had been told. They thought it was him. He would go in and confirm, the Heeres were gone. Vincent had passed away half-a-year ago, leaving the only person to be able to confirm; Michael. He is going in the afternoon, hoping he doesn't break down in the morgue. 

When he pulls into the parking lot he feels fear build up in his stomach. He is going to see the corpse of his possible best friend. The bile may end up in the parking lot or the morgue floor, but Michael doesn't want to puke. He wants to find out it wasn't Jeremy, that Jeremy is somewhere out there alive and ready to come home. But when he sees the body, that's not the ending he gets. Jeremy lays on the table, eyes closed but he is easily recognizable, and Michael just wants him to open his eyes and for them to walk out there together; alive and happy. But what he gets is a dead best friend. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you for reading this! I wrote it through my own angst so please enjoy it, the song is in the tags if you would like to listen to it. I am sorry that Jeremy dies, but not really because really I would rather die. Okay, that was dark. I am going to go hide, have a good day!


End file.
